


Jewish Breakfast

by CaptainThotiana



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Breakfast, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff without Plot, Jewish Character, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19377829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainThotiana/pseuds/CaptainThotiana
Summary: Chris (who is so totally Jewish heck your canon) makes breakfast for Ash. Pure fluff. Gratuitous descriptions of bagels.





	Jewish Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Chris is Jewish, fuck ya canon. I put off Oh Captain My Captain (mostly about Lorca if you didn’t know) and Control (Piler smut) for this, because Jews Love Bagels. And I was hungry. Sue me.

Ash woke up to an empty bed and the smell of food coming from the kitchen.

He stretched, relieving the remaining tension from his muscles after Last Night, which deserved any and all capitalization, because damn.

Eventually he got up, after that time between waking up and actually waking up, and found himself some pants and a shirt before making his way to the kitchen.

The dog was sitting obediently in the doorway, not even her nose over the line between hallway and kitchen. Ash cuddled with her for at least five minutes before actually addressing his husband, the thought of which always made him smile.

“Morning,” Chris said, and Ash would have replied but hugging him from behind and kissing the back of his neck was more tempting.

“You’re insatiable,” was said to him, an entirely positive observation.

“Love you too,” Ash replied into his husband’s neck, looking over his shoulder to see what he was doing.

Apparently, Chris was attempting to put cream cheese on a bagel, his biggest weakness.

The man could slice paper-thin onions, neatly shape any kind of dessert into a beautiful sculpture, and throw a knife accurately enough to slice fruit in half from across a lecture hall (it had been a bet, that he’d won), but when it came to cream cheese and a butter knife he was hopeless.

Ash took the knife from him and did it himself, trying not to laugh at Chris’s frustration with the big clumps of cream cheese that didn’t spread.

“It never ceases to amaze me how bad you are at any and all condiments,” Ash sighed fondly as Chris took a cream-cheesed bagel from him and smothered it with several colorful things that Ash pointedly didn’t look at because he’d stabbed himself with dull knives enough for ten lifetimes.

“You’re a former Klingon spy and assassin turned just spy and occasional assassin, and you’re scared of cats,” Chris countered.

“They just bite you for no reason!” Ash exclaimed.

“Do they really? Salem was pretty nice in my opinion,” Chris said, hiding his smile, because Salem was the friendliest cat he’d ever lured out of a box of old fish with a very tempting rock on a shoelace, except when it came to Ash, who he had decided he wanted to murder.

“Salem was a damn menace,” Ash replied firmly, “and you just brainwashed him to not hate you.”

“You’re still scared of cats, though, after one cornered alley cat who thought a rock on a string was a tasty morsel barely scratched you.”

“Remember the planet with the giant spiders?”

Chris shuddered so profoundly he almost dropped the fork he was holding.

“We agreed not to talk about the spiders.”

“It’s good to have a secret weapon sometimes,” Ash replied, washing a few cutting boards and plates and finding them both glasses and coffee.

When he sat down at the table, he discovered that Chris had really outdone himself, with an aesthetically pleasing plate of lox, sliced avocado, paper-thin onions, glistening red tomatoes, and a fancy border of lettuce around the edge.

“A true Jewish breakfast, just like my dad only ever made for people he was trying to impress and never his family,” Chris said, and he was always reminding Ash about going to therapy when he had an appointment but he had some childhood trauma of his own to unpack.

“Have you considered therapy, or do you enjoy randomly sliding your repressed trauma into casual conversation?” Ask inquired, putting everything he could onto his bagel and failing to keep it there as he ate.

“How else would I bond with my students?” Chris countered. “Have to keep the interest going somehow.”

“They’re supposed to think Starfleet is fun and safe,” Ash pointed out, immediately seeing a few issues with that.

Chris gave him a Look.

“Okay, so life sucks and everyone you meet has an agenda or dimples that suck you in and leave you unable to escape.”

“What is it with people and dimples?”

“They’re cute. You’re like a puppy.”

Chris gave him another one of his Looks.

“That’s not what you said last night,” he said, completely nonchalant.

Ash honest to god almost dropped his bagel.

“I said a few things last night,” he rescued himself. “When we finish breakfast I can make good on a few promises.”

Chris almost choked.

Two could play at that game, Ash had learned.

“I think I’ll call in sick today,” Chris decided, and finished his bagel with remarkable speed.

Jewish breakfasts really were miracles, Ash decided a few hours later.

That, and he was irreversibly in love with his husband, but that was neither news nor all that tragic.

**Author's Note:**

> Boom! Now I’m gonna put off OCMC and Control even more to write other stuff! Please don’t hate me Aisha they’ll fuck eventually! Feel free to praise/roast in the comments.


End file.
